[texting repository] bc not everything's gotta be action

[hackitudes]

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[radioactivities]

Don't jinx it!

[ Seriously. He means it. Any minute now, some variation of Fin Fang Foom or (god forbid) Lockheed could barge it at any moment, harshly interrupting the falling action of their tryst. The slow and steady quelling of the flame between them, what was once practically flaring at the heights of their intimacy, only to now glow faintly. Glow... because there's indeed a glow about them, their basking in a feeling beyond a mere job well done. More like the beginning of something.

Despite their storied past, what Peter sees before him is so new. The face he cups with a soft hand, the body he cradles with a single arm... this is a woman with whom he's tried to make things work many times. Someone for whom fate has had different ideas, as if for all their efforts, all their plans, there was always something getting in the way. But now, Peter sees no more of that. No more room for excuses. He's going to fight for another moment like this, for yet more respite that he can share with Felicia, come what may.

It's with this understanding that he listens with pleasure, with satisfaction, at her purring. At the way her body's unfurled, and she with it, against the brunt of all his ministrations. The way her body had seized up during orgasm, only to steadily decline into a relaxed state, into the tender stillness with which Peter now holds her, the webbed wonder now regarding her warmly with a smile. ]

Thanks, Felicia. Not gonna lie, though... I felt out of practice going in.

Can't quite put my finger on--

[ Nobody, not even the Watcher, will ever learn the end of that sentence, bad pun and all. Because before Peter can do even that, the webbing that's been keeping their bodies attached to the ceiling finally snaps, the material weakened by its own gradual degradation. The snapping is quick, abrupt-- though the webbing tears in an unceremonious silence. That means the two bodies plummet without a sound, but it's nothing Peter's spider-sense can't predict.

So as soon as his two feet land on the ground, he catches Felicia in a bridal carry. Best way not to hurt her anywhere, though she's made of sturdier stuff than most. ]

Okay, that was silly. Can't believe I almost forgot: my webbing dissolves after enough time.

I'll try to remember that... next time. Don't mind me penciling it in, say, day after tomorrow?

[ A simple question, but boy does it represent a lot for Peter. The openness of possibility between them, in a manner he once thought permanently and accursedly foreclosed. Like the uncertain dance between them was something they were destined to do forever, until others just as temporarily walk into their lives to hold their attention, or until misfortune takes the other person away.

Truly, he doesn't know how long this'll last. He's not that naive. But he wants to enjoy this as much as he can, for as long as he can. Peter has this "great power means great responsibility" thing down pat, and he'll never slouch in his responsibility to others. Not for anything.

He's come to this conclusion already, but he needs to hear it again. Tell it to himself again, like it's a new mantra to follow the old.

Because he sure has a responsibility to himself. And that means paying attention to the people he loves, and the people who love him in return.

Present company included. ]